


Final Steps into Madness

by megsblackfire



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Character Death, M/M, Pain, because we can't have nice things, some minor canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23744062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megsblackfire/pseuds/megsblackfire
Summary: An accident on the Lunar Station landed Dr. Siebren De Kuiper in a medical facility. He's unstable, but certain that he will be released. He wants nothing more than to return to his studies and to his loving partner, Dr. Harold Winston.You all know what happens next.
Relationships: Dr. Harold Winston/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Final Steps into Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy a little bit of pain.

Harold looked up in alarm as sirens started blaring through the station. He scrambled for the door to the lab, shouting for the others to follow him. All unimportant experiments were left where they were while others were hurriedly put into containment fields. Within the span of five minutes, Harold had his lab cleared out and heading for the safe room. He led the way through the station, meeting up with other scientists as they all fled their respective labs.

“Hang on, where’s Sigma?” Harold asked.

He was rarely grateful for the stupid nickname that Dr. de Kuiper had earned for himself, but right now, when he did not have time to say his friend’s full name, he liked the short, concise, and well-known nickname.

“I don’t think the astrophysics lab has evacuated yet,” another scientist shouted over the heads of the others.

Harold cursed before he started fighting his way back through the press of bodies. After a few moments, he managed to get the point across that he was going to check on the astrophysicists and people cleared out of his way. A few others tagged along behind him, feeling the need to make sure others were safe now that they knew that their own groups were looked after.

The hallways were bathed in red as the sirens continued blaring. Harold kept jogging, heading for the astrophysics department. The door was in lockdown when he arrived, but one of the benefits of being a head of department meant that all the doors opened with his override. He entered the code and the doors made an audible clicking noise before opening up.

“No, close them!” someone shouted as he tried to squeeze through. “Dr. de Kuiper’s still in there!”

“In where?” Harold demanded as he forced his way past the terrified scientist. “Can’t you hear the sirens? We’ve got a leak somewhere and we need to get to the safe room. Now.”

“If we disturb Dr. de Kuiper, all of his work will be destroyed,” the scientist glared at him.

“He’ll die if we don’t pull him out of there before that oxygen leak hits this sector,” Harold snapped. “I’m sure he’ll value his life so that he can continue his research when we aren’t in danger.”

The scientists started fussing as he made his way towards the highly specialized section that his partner had spent the last few years designing. The blaring sirens would have been damn near impossible to hear in the perfect vacuum that Siebren had made, leaving him in the hands of those outside if something went wrong. The worst thing ever reported wrong was that they had a leak of oxygen into the room that completely mucked up whatever the good doctor had been working on, but nothing catastrophic.

As he approached, however, he could see that people were struggling to get the doors to unlock. They were shouting to each other, waving desperately as someone got a crowbar between the two locking points on the door. He watched the scientists reefing on the crowbar and hurried forward, eyeing the viewing window.

He had no idea how to describe what was happening inside of Siebren’s lab. There was light, but there was something that was devouring it faster than his brain could process. In between impossible flashes, he could see Siebren’s face caught in a fluctuating state of horror and amazement. His body was caught between being pulled into the very center of his work table and being flung against the wall, the interior of the lab shaking from some incredible force.

“Get the door open,” he heard someone shout. “He’s dying!”

Harold bolted forward and punched his code into the door. It beeped angrily at him, demanding another set of numbers before it opened. He grit his teeth as he started entering in every code he had access to, doing his best to ignore the indignant shouts of the other scientists. He didn’t care if they’d already tried all the codes; he hadn’t and they hadn’t tried them with his override code. He punched in the last code he knew and the pad turned green confirming that he’d entered the correct code at last.

There was the familiar sound of a chamber being pressurized before the other scientists scrambled into the room beyond. There was a loud sucking sound, like water going down the drain, and then dead silence. Harold pushed his way into the room and watched a carefully constructed containment unit close over whatever Siebren had been working on.

Siebren was slumped against the table, blood trickling down his jaw to drip onto the floor. Harold charged forward, grabbing the larger scientist and hoisting them across his shoulders. He had no idea how he managed to haul Siebren’s dead weight out of the astrophysics lab, but somehow, he managed to get the unconscious man to the safe room and onto a stretcher.

He barely remembered screaming at the other scientists, demanding to know why they had refused help and tried to lock everyone out of the lab. He didn’t get a straight answer and he promised retribution for their stupidity. He booked Siebren on the next shuttle going back to Earth, requesting transfer to the best medical center that was available, and was relieved that he would be taken straight to Overwatch Headquarters to be tended to by Dr. Angela Ziegler herself. That was reassuring.

* * *

“Hey,” Harold smiled as he stepped into Siebren’s private room. “How’s the head?”

Siebren blinked at him. His pupils were blown wide; not surprising considering he was on a lot of medication at the moment; and it would have been funny if Harold wasn’t so worried. His friend, partner, and lover was supposed to be getting better, but every time he’d requested to visit, Dr. Ziegler had said that he was still in critical condition and could not have visitors.

It had finally been him begging for her to let him see his friend that won her over. She didn’t like seeing grown men cry, apparently, and he was grateful for that.

Physically, Siebren looked fine. The cut he’d received across his jaw had healed up perfectly and there was no sign that it had ever been there. The scientist he’d interrogated said that the cut had come from one of the free-floating pieces of equipment that Dr. de Kuiper had been using, but there was no way to confirm it since the Overwatch medical team was keeping all of his files confidential. It was frustrating.

“Hello, Harold,” Siebren smiled. “How have you been?”

“Tired,” Harold chuckled as he took a seat at Siebren’s bedside. “Worried about you, Siebren.”

“Worried?” Siebren blinked before laughing. “I’m in great care here, Harold! Dr. Ziegler is very attentive; she’s in here at least once a day to check up on me. In fact,” he cocked his head to the side, “I don’t know why they keep me here.”

He frowned and swatted at his ear, grumbling as he looked around. Harold reached out and took one of Siebren’s massive hands in his own. Siebren turned his head to look at him, eyes innocent as he regarded Harold. He smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. Harold let out a soft chuckle as he kissed Siebren’s cheek in return.

“The Doctor won’t tell me why they’re keeping you,” Harold murmured as he pushed his fingers through Siebren’s gray hair. “I want you to come home. I’m so worried.”

“I want to go home too,” Siebren shook his head. “How is little Winston doing?”

“He’s leading the pack in terms of his cognitive functions, but he still hasn’t managed speech.”

“I’m sure his first words will be ‘daddy,” Siebren teased before he shook his head violently. “Where is that music coming from?”

Harold frowned. “Music? Siebren, there’s no music.”

“I can hear it,” Siebren shook his head. “It keeps starting and then vanishing, like someone is taunting me.”

“Siebren,” Harold set a hand over his lover’s, “there’s no music playing. It’s quiet in here. I can’t even hear a fan going.”

“I can hear it,” Siebren hissed and covered his ears. “They won’t stop playing it! How can you not hear it, Harold?”

“Siebren,” Harold murmured as he touched Siebren’s shoulder, “there’s no music.”

“I can hear it, Harold!” Siebren looked at him with tears in his eyes. “Make it stop! I can’t stand it anymore! Make it stop!”

Harold wrapped his arms around Siebren’s shoulders, holding him as he broke down into tears. He did his best to sooth the larger man, kissing his cheek and whispering that it was going to be alright. Siebren twisted to hide his face in Harold’s chest, shaking as Harold ran his fingers through his lover’s hair.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”

An orderly entered the room as Siebren curled his hands in Harold’s shirt. They moved around the room, cleaning up, but they were making an unusual amount of noise. Siebren trembled before he lifted his head, eyes seeming to tremble in his head as he followed the orderly’s movement.

“Quiet,” he whispered before he tried to get to his feet. “Be quiet!”

“Honey, Honey,” Harold grit his teeth as he did his best to hold Siebren back. “Ssh, they’re just doing their job.”

“The noise,” Siebren sobbed as he sank to his knees. “The noise! I can’t take this! Make it stop, make it stop!”

Harold knelt down and gently kissed over Siebren’s forehead. “It’s okay; I’m here,” he whispered as he rocked Siebren against him. “Deep breaths, Siebren. Take deep breaths.”

Siebren shook his head, whimpering as he hid against Harold’s chest. Harold continued rocking him, humming softly in the hopes of soothing Siebren’s nerves. Siebren let out a soft gasp before clinging to Harold, staring up at him in awe. Harold felt himself blush under the intense gaze, but kept humming. Siebren’s eyes fluttered closed and he rested his head against Harold’s chest, hugging him close.

Any sense of calm went out the window as the orderly dropped something onto the ground. The clanging and crash drew a shriek from Siebren before he jumped to his feet. He let out a strangled cry and lunged for the orderly, shouting in his native tongue. Harold scrambled after him, managing to tackle Siebren to the ground before he could touch the orderly.

“Calm down, calm down,” he whispered into Siebren’s ear. “It was an accident.”

Siebren shrieked inhumanly beneath him, writhing so violently that Harold was almost pitched off of him. The orderly appeared with a needle and jabbed it into the fatty deposit on Siebren’s shoulder. Harold stared at him as Siebren’s struggles slowly started to weaken, brain refusing to process what he’d just seen.

“You… how did you have that ready so fast?” he demanded as Siebren slumped against the ground.

“The music…,” Siebren whispered.

“Ssh, darling,” Harold brushed his hand through Siebren’s hair. “It’s okay. Just sleep.”

Siebren let out a long sigh before his eyes closed. His breathing evened out and Harold pushed himself off of his lover’s body. The orderly stood up and went to dispose of the needle, refusing to meet Harold’s eyes. He swallowed and followed the orderly, cornering them near the biohazard disposal bucket.

“How did you have that sedative ready?” he demanded. “And how did you know how much to use?”

The orderly shifted and looked at their feet. “Dr. de Kuiper gets violent often,” they said. “We all know where the sedative is kept in case he gets aggressive and cannot be made to calm down.”

“Is this an ongoing issue?” he demanded. “Surely Dr. Ziegler knows of a better means to calm him down than pumping him full of tranquilizer?”

The orderly shrugged. “You can ask her when she comes in later to check on him.”

“You’re not going to get him back on the bed?”

“I’m not strong enough to move the doctor.”

Harold rolled his eyes before he turned and walked back over to Siebren’s downed form. He managed to haul Siebren to his feet and drag him over to the bed, dropping him gracelessly onto the mattress before moving his legs onto the bed properly. He got his lover situated comfortably before he heard the door to the room open.

Dr. Ziegler walked in with a disappointed expression on her face. She looked at Siebren’s comatose form, apparently unaffected by the drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. Harold grabbed a cloth off the bedside table and dabbed the drool away, waiting to hear what the good doctor said.

“You’ve seen why we cannot release him yet,” she said after a lengthy silence. “He is suffering from auditory hallucinations and grows violent at sudden noises. He’s attacked many of our orderlies since waking.”

“Was this,” Harold motioned to the still scattered medical supplies, “intentional then?”

“Yes.”

“If you ever intentionally trigger him again, I will be filing a formal complaint with the Strike Commander,” Harold growled as he turned to face her fully. “I put him in your care because you are the foremost expert in medical research and I don’t know what the effects of being in a compromised experiment with intense gravity bordering on the creation of a black hole will have on him. I did not agree to letting you intentionally trigger a mental breakdown when he is clearly mentally unstable.”

“We are doing everything we can, Dr. Winston,” Dr. Ziegler said. “I can assure you that this scenario was just to show you how unstable he is. I know that you have been desperate to see him but he is not stable at the moment. He could have easily attacked you instead.”

“And you were willing to risk that?”

“The orderly was close at hand to administer the sedative. Even if Dr. de Kuiper attacked you, he would be out cold before he could do damage to you.”

“This was incredibly unprofessional, Dr. Ziegler.”

“I apologize, Dr. Winston.”

Harold glared at her before he turned back to Siebren. He settled himself into the chair, determined to be present when his lover woke so that he could explain everything to him.

* * *

Siebren hummed to himself as he fiddled with the scale model of a molecule on his desk. He moved one hand like he was conducting an orchestra, trying to make sense of the music going through his head. It was so insistent sometimes that it was impossible to ignore, but those days were much fewer now. He was convinced, as was the Strike Commander, that he could return to active duty in his lab very soon.

“No reason to keep you cooped up,” the Strike Commander had smiled when he said that. “I’m relieved to see you doing better, Dr. de Kuiper; you are a terrifying man when angered.”

Siebren had been embarrassed that the Strike Commander; wonderful man, Jack Morrison, really, he was; had seen him at his worst. However, it was comforting that he had not been packed away to be forgotten about. And Harold’s visits made the hospital stay bearable; he always made Siebren feel like he was getting better and not just being played with by the staff.

He turned as he heard a knock at the door. He got to his feet, smiling as Dr. Ziegler stepped into the room. He stepped forward to take her hands, squeezing them in greeting. She smiled at him before motioning to the gorilla that walked in nervously behind her.

“Dr. de Kuiper, this is Winston,” she said.

“Winston?” Siebren blinked before he smiled widely. “Oh, my, how you’ve grown!” he laughed as he stepped forward. “Let me get a good look at you, my boy! Harold has been positively gushing about you and your cognitive abilities!”

Winston ducked his head shyly and scratched at his jaw. “Oh, uh, thank you, Dr. de Kuiper,” he said. “Uh, Dr. Winston spoke highly of you as well.”

“Spoke highly of me,” Siebren rolled his eyes as he grinned. “Yes, I’m sure he kept most of his stories safe from sweet, innocent little ears. But I must wonder why he sent you alone instead of coming himself.”

Winston looked away and closed his eyes. “There… was a fight on the station,” he said. “My siblings… they attacked the scientists. Dr. Winston was killed. I escaped before….”

Winston’s voice faded away. The music in his head grew to a horrifying decibel, shaking his eardrums as off-key flutes shrieked. The music that had started to become harmonious became uncontrollable, a cacophony of noise that meant nothing and would never mean anything.

Harold was gone. Harold had been killed by the very gorillas he had spent his life protecting, raising, and studying. He had given them the ability to think for themselves, to learn far beyond what their genetics had previously allowed. He had loved them like his own children, had done everything in his power to give them the best possible life for themselves. In return, they had murdered him.

He blinked his eyes, finding himself restrained on his bed. He struggled for a moment before he stared up at the ceiling. Tears leaked down his face as disjointed memories bounced around his mind. Had he really attacked Winston? Had he tried to snap Dr. Ziegler’s neck? Why would he do that? It wasn’t like him. Why had he done that?

Harold was gone. His darling was gone. Harold was gone.

They would all die for this. They would die for taking his Harold away.


End file.
